


Poor Communication

by markipwiwer



Series: Tumblr Requests [63]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi, blame that, google translate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: “4 for the sarcasm prompts sounds interesting if ya feel like it, kinda gives me Anti and Will vibes :D”- pipsqueakcollie





	Poor Communication

“I can’t teleport us out of here, it’ll look more guilty. So remember, if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

Anti looked at Wilford with a tilted head.

“Why is it that way around? I’m the one with an accent!”

“Because you can sign and I actually know other languages well enough to cover it up.”

It was difficult to play dumb but they looked harmless enough. It was just a means of getting off of the property. Wilford had managed to cover their scent tracks so the hounds couldn’t come after them. But it was the kind of place that was WAY easier to stumble into than to stumble back out of with the sensitive information they now had.

The whole place looked like the definition of a crack den, but if you looked a little closer it was a very well organised operation. 

They rounded a corner and suddenly, two patrollers that looked like they might have been ex junkies pulled guns on them. How embarrassing for Wilford and Anti, of all people, to raise their hands in surrender.

“State your names and purposes!”

Anti tried to look scared, like he was listening closely, and eventually, he sighed slowly with one hand while mouthing the words so they really got it, ‘I can’t hear you’.

Both of the men sort of looked at each other before focusing on Wilford instead.

“Is he for real?!”

Wilford did a better job of looking scared, confused, helpless, and Anti had to wonder how many times he’d done this before. Wilford stuttered over his words a little before getting something out.

“T-Tá brón orm, ní thuigim agus ní féidir le mo chara a chloisteáil!”

It was clearly a bit butchered, and he struggled to find an accent, but... the people looked more and more confused. They’d lowered their guns a bit, and eventually decided on just shouting at them in an intimidating manner, pointing to where the general direction of the exit was.

Anti and Wilford ran.

Eventually, when they were back onto the streets, Wilford teleported them back home. As soon as he could, Anti doubled over with laughter.

Wilford looked a tad shy.

“Oh my fuckin’ God, dude, why the fuck do you know Gaelic?!”

Wilford crossed his arms defensively.

“I... happen to know a lot of things!”

“Okay, well, good job for gettin’ us out of that shit, but I fuckin’ hope you never try to pull that on someone who actually speaks it. Everything about that was terrible.”

Wilford blushed, and pouted, and Anti gave him a warm pat on the back despite his tearing apart of Wilfords language skills.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you got an idea or a request for a fic? Come shoot me a message at markipwiwer.tumblr.com!
> 
> If you like what I do, please consider supporting me at www.ko-fi.com/markipwiwer!


End file.
